Angel
by Alanna79
Summary: Spoiler Alert: Chapter 63 of the manga. So how did they settle on the shape of Maka's wings?


First fanfiction ever, please review.

Disclaimer: I do not own Soul Eater.

* * *

Maka slammed he door behind her as she stomped into the apartment she and Soul shared. Without a word, aside from some inarticulate growling, she headed straight for her room and slammed that door shut as well.

A moment later, having parked his motorcycle and retrieving his partners helmet from the ground where she had thrown it, Soul entered the apartment. Closing the door behind him, he sighed in frustration upon seeing his meister's door already closed. He cringed as he heard something, probably a ten-pound reference book, hit the wall in Maka's room.

He ran a hand through his already messy hair as he made his way quietly to the kitchen. Opening the refrigerator, he took the milk carton out, opened it and decided at the last minute to get out a glass, just in case Maka emerged from her room Best not to give her any more cause for wrath at this point.

Thinking back to this afternoon's flying lesson with Kim and Jackie, Soul knew exactly what he had done to piss her off this time, but dammit, he just isn't get what the big deal was. Marie had already gotten Maka all worked up, calling her "little angel," but then her stupid father had to go and tell Soul to picture her as an angel. It really was comical to him, when memories of years of her meltdowns and violent temper flashed before his mind's eye, to think of her as "angelic." It wasn't as if he'd called her a hag or a demon or something... he had just... well... laughed in her face. _Shit._ Soul couldn't believe how innately good he was at finding the simplest ways to piss her off. And then to top it off, the totally cool looking wings he had conjured up were not at all to her liking. What did she expect? Feathers?

Months ago, around the time of the Foundation Day Eve party, Soul had begun to realize that his feelings for his meister had changed significantly. Sure she was flat-chested, bookish and hot-tempered, but she was deeply compassionate, dependable and had a strong sense of justice. When he had discovered some of his favorite foods on her plate after her father dragged her on the dance floor, he had dared momentarily to contemplate certain possibilities... but then there was the Kishin, countless missions that followed, Chrona's stand against Medusa... on it went until their recent achievement of their one-time ultimate goal: Soul's transition to Death Scythe. Now that they might just have a minute to breathe, for him to approach her about the growing affection he held for her, he had hit an obviously sensitive nerve.

Finishing the milk and being careful to wash the glass and return it to the cupboard, Soul sighed again before heading off to his room to gather his clothes and towel and head for the shower. Stopping briefly outside her door, he whispered the word, almost soundlessly, trying it out as a nickname, "Angel." The name wasn't so bad when he replaced the images he had recalled before with images of her sleeping soundly against his back at the end of a long ride on his motorcycle, or of the way she had stayed with him in the infirmary after they lost the fight with Ragnarok, and especially of the image of her floating down to meet him in the little box inside the room inside his head, the day the black blood almost swallowed him completely. She had certainly been his own, personal angel then. He shook his head at his own slowness in seeing how well the description really fit her, before continuing down the hall to the bathroom.

Fifteen minutes later, as he exited the bathroom wearing his black and white plaid flannel pajama bottoms and a black t-shirt, still toweling his unruly snow-colored hair dry. He stopped short as he noticed that Maka had relocated to the living room, where she was curled up on the couch, writing in the spiral bound notebook she kept letters that she wrote to her mother. Letters she had no address to send to.

"Oi, Maka, I'll order some pizza for dinner tonight, how's that sound?" Soul offered, tossing the towel in the hamper and went to use the phone in the kitchen. It had been her night to cook, but he knew better than to mention that now.

"Sounds fine," was her flat reply. Soul sighed again before calling in the order. Two small pizzas, meat mania for him and eggplant for her. Hanging up the phone and retrieving the pizza money from his room, he headed for the opposite end of the couch from where Maka sat. Without a word, he tossed the pizza money on the coffee table. Picking up the remote, he turned the T.V. to some "World's Dumbest" show. While they waited for the pizza, he surreptitiously watched Maka's face out of the corner of his eye. She would probably never realize just how clearly her emotions were broadcast on her face. Soul just wished the motivations for those feelings were as clear to discern. Her face had lost the seething rage from earlier, and was replaced with a sulky one, and something else he couldn't quite name... wistfulness?

He jumped a little when the doorbell rang, signaling the arrival of their dinner.

"I'll get it," Maka said, setting her notebook down on the coffee table as she grabbed the money. Her voice was sulky now instead of pissed. Soul sighed again and started to stand up to go set the kitchen table, but hesitated as he noticed a doodle in her book. This was different. Leaning closer he saw a delicately drawn pair of rounded, almost bubbly, looking wings. Totally girly and uncool. But shit, if this is what she wanted... Soul was beginning to form a plan for how to tell his partner just how much she meant to him.

* * *

"_You _are suggesting we spend a Saturday morning _practicing?_ Who are you and what have you done with Soul?" Maka held a hand up to his forehead, suggesting he must be sick.

"Yeah, well, how cool would it be if we were totally awesome at flying already on Monday when we're supposed to be getting our next training session with Kim and Jackie? We'd be the coolest weapon and meister team at the DWMA, not that we aren't already," Soul was trying to cover up his true motivations for now.

"Have you been taking ego lessons from BlackStar? Well, whatever, I guess, I'm certainly not one to complain about practice," Maka replied, clearing the breakfast dishes from the table as she spoke. Soul pushed away from the table to go to his room and change out of his pajamas into reals clothes. Maka wondered a little to herself as she washed the dishes. _I really blew up at him yesterday. It's not his fault I'm stupid enough to fall in love with him. I know I don't stand a chance with him, so why do I keep hoping? _She sighed, rinsing out the glasses.

As she placed the last dish in the strainer, Soul reappeared. He wore a dark red, almost burgundy tee-shirt today with charcoal colored cargo pants. Maka loved that deep red on him.

"Ready when you are," Soul said lightly. The pair left the apartment to make their way through Death City toward the DWMA. They chose to continue their practice in a clearing not too terribly far into the woods-like practice grounds.

A few minutes later, Soul was transformed into his Scythe form, Maka straddling his handle like a broom horse. "Ready?" she asked. "Whenever you are," he replied, before they both yelled in unison, "Soul Resonance!"

Their souls connected, causing an almost tornado-like effect around them as the sheer strength of their soul wavelengths synchronizing caused the tree branches around them too tremble. "Okay Soul, now we imagine wings so I can use them to fly, right?" Maka was remembering the steps as best as she could, she had been so distracted yesterday by the possibility of flight... and by the silly comments Marie and her father had made. The ones that had opened up the little box inside her heart where she thought she had locked her impossible dream. _Crap, no time for that now, Maka!_

"Yeah, here goes," Soul said, ready now to enact his plan. Remembering the cutesy wings he had seen in her notebook, he focused in on their shape. As soon as they took shape around the head of his Scythe form, the pair began to hover a few feet off the ground.

"Hey, that was muck quicker than yesterday! We really are going to surpri-," Maka's voice was cut off as she turned and saw the wings Soul had made for her. Her break in concentration caused a chain reaction, ending with Soul reverting to his human shape and the two falling to the ground, Maka handing on top of Soul.

Scrambling to their feet, she asked, "What the heck, you were so proud of your "cool" wings yesterday. And don't thin I don't realize you were looking at my drawing. You weren't reading my letters to Mama, were you?"

"No, cool guys don't snoop through other people's mail, but you left the drawing in plain sight last night when you went to pay for the pizza. I thought it would make you happy," Soul said, rubbing his head where it had impacted the ground.

"Soul, since when do you risk looking uncool just to make me happy," Maka was starting to suspect he was up to something. She crossed her arms over her chest, waiting.

_Well, here goes. Now's my chance_. Soul thought before casually replying, "It's always cool to make the girl you love happy."

The little box within Maka's heart rattled. She stared at him with wide eyes, searching his face for a hint that he really had meant what he had implied. "Soul?" she questioned in a very small voice.

Soul lowered his hands to his sides and turned to face her straight on. Straightening his shoulders, he mustered his courage, "Maka Albarn, I love you. I have for months, "he said solemnly. He watched her intently as she processed what he had said.

Inside Maka's heart, the box exploded with a flash of brilliant light. As realization sunk in, Maka took a slow step toward her weapon, bringing a hand up to lay on his chest. Tears gathered in her olive eyes as she studied his face. "Soul, do you really mean that?" she asked.

"Yeah, I mean it-" he was barely able to get the words out before she threw her arms around his midsection, burying her face in his chest. Instinctively, his arms came up to hold her close. The embrace felt so amazingly _right._ Like this was how things were _supposed _to be.

"I love you, too, Soul. I have for a long time, but I never imagined..." she trailed off.

They stayed in that moment for a long time, just holding each other, souls resonating more powerfully than ever.


End file.
